Staring Contest
by BeeCityz
Summary: Axel is the coolest teacher ever. And Roxas is his favorite student. Future Yaoi/Shonen Ai.
1. The Bet

The staring contest. God knows how long its been around. It is the traditional way to settle something, possibly second behind 'Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!.' And now, Roxas sat in his chair, his back to the rest of the classroom, staring his teacher down. The fate of his final term paper depended on it. Or, whether or not it would even be written.

How he had gotten here, he had no idea. The day had gone smoothly; he had gone to class, gone to lunch, gone to class, and then afternoon announcements rang throughout the halls. He had gotten up to go home after study hall. His teacher had called him behind. Now, here he was a half an hour later, eyes burning and watering like no tomorrow.

"Roxas." The sound of his name broke him from his brief reverie.

"Yes?"

"You're going to lose."

"No way."

"Hell yes."

His teacher, Professor Axel Russo, was most likely the most laid back teacher Roxas had ever had. He swore in front of the class, he criticized other teachers in front of the class, and he was practically the only openly gay man in their town. Naturally, he was the art teacher.

Roxas's nails dug into the desk as he struggled to keep his eyes open and focused on the green emeralds that held his gaze. It killed him to admit that he was difficult, and that he would most likely lose.

"Roxas…"

"Shut up! I'm not going to lose." Another thing about Professor Axel? You could pretty much talk to him anyway you wanted, so long as your art was good and your class effort and participation were good. Roxas was the best student in the class, so he was all but untouchable.

"Whatever you say." Axel had his hands folded calmly beneath his chin, a wry smile decorating his perfect face. His head was tilted to the side, a gesture of minimal interest.

He blinked. Once, twice, three times. Axel's smile widened as Roxas let his head fall onto his desk, none too gently. It made a noise that resounded through the classroom and through the open door, into the empty hallway.

"Told you so~" Axel chimed, standing up and walking over to sit in the desk beside Roxas.

"Shut. Up. Please." Roxas replied burying his face in his hands.

"We have a deal." The redhead continued, ignoring his student. "Time to pay up, Blondie."

The thing about deals is, they're broken. A lot like rules, except two people lose instead of just one. Roxas was entirely prepared to let the deal fall through and give Axel anything to make that so. Axel, being a teacher, had expected this, in the least. As a matter of fact, he had a plan should Roxas decide to take that route. And he implemented it.

"Let me out of it."

"No."

"I'll do anything."

Silence.

"Professor?"

"Anything?"

"Yeah. Anything."

They were standing, and Roxas was getting in Axel's face. Axel remained completely unfazed, bending down to stare into Roxas's eyes and studying the series of expressions he went through as they argued.

Then he shrugged, his own expression becoming one of disinterest. "You know it would be much easier for you to do the paper."

"And why is that?"

"I'm prepared to offer you an alternative. But once you decide, for sure, that you prefer my alternative, I'm not going to allow you to go back."

"I'm willing to accept that."

Axel nodded. "Very well then. Let's go."

He backed off, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder and walking towards the door. Roxas, caught between surprise and curiosity, followed suit. He caught up with Axel halfway down the hallway and had to jog to keep up with his long strides.

"That's it?"

"For now."

"What's your alternative?"

"Oh yes. I almost forgot." He stopped short and turned to Roxas, smiling broadly. "You're going to be staying with me for the next week. During that time, you will not object to anything I ask you to do, anything that involves you and I, et cetera. Understand?"

Roxas swallowed hard. Yes, Professor Axel was every kid's favorite teacher. Yes, he was probably the most awesome teacher within 500 miles, And yes, Roxas (and every other student in his school) loved him to death. However, that didn't change the fact that he was afraid of what Axel was capable of.

"Understood."

Because it was clearly possible (even though the blonde didn't understand how) Axel's smile widened. "Fabulous. Let's go."

They began walking again, pushing through the double glass doors of the school and heading to Axel's car. During that time, a comfortable silence between the two, one single thought occupied Roxas's mind: This was going to be a very, very long week.


	2. Day 1

Being friendly with Axel during class and riding in the passenger seat of his car on the way home, Roxas came to learn, were two entirely different things. Entirely different feelings. Because being friendly with Axel in a school setting was fun; you could pick fun at him and he would pick fun in return, and that would be the end of it. In the passenger seat of his car (a 2009 green Ferrari California) things were more serious. Things were…real.

Apparently, Professor Axel lived very far out of town. He pulled out of the school parking lot with Roxas fidgeting relatively nervously next to him and began speeding down the deserted highway at 80 miles and hour, heading towards the southern outskirts of town. He didn't play the radio or his iPod connection, he didn't roll down the widows. He just…drove. It didn't take very long before Roxas couldn't handle the silence.

"So you live pretty far out of town?" He asked, turning his head to look at Axel. Said teacher cast him a sideways glance before focusing on the road again.

"I guess so. I don't really like the big-city atmosphere, so I holed up in the country." He frowned softy.

"Professor, its Rochester. I mean, its not a small city, but its hardly _big_."

"You can call me Axel while we're not in school. I don't mind." He completely ignored Roxas's question, taking an exit and several sharp turns to put them on a country road with no view of the city. Or the highway. Or any place other than_ here_. It was, in Roxas's opinion, intimidating. But maybe that was only because he knew he would be stuck Here for the next week.

More silence. More driving. The blonde didn't understand how any one road could go on this long. It denied every rule of pretty much anything. After about ten minutes, he resolved to looking out the window, watching as acres upon acres of trees flew past them at lightning speed. For a country road, Axel's little sports car was going awfully fast.

Finally, _finally_, they took a long, easy right-hand turn and pulled up in front of a house. Or, rather, a mansion. Even by city standards, the place was huge. The porch alone had to be 500 square feet, decorated with country-styled rocking chairs and a whicker coffee tables. There were four pillars supporting the hanging-roof, each spaced evenly to allow room for the massive front door, carved with images that depicted what looked like some sort of holy battle. It was, in a word, beautiful.

"Whoa." Roxas murmured, quickly throwing himself out of the car, grabbing his backpack, and…gaping.

"You like it?" Axel asked, a smirk quickly sliding onto his face as he did the same.

"Hell yes! What's not to like?"

"Yes…it's quite beautiful. I'm lucky I actually took the time to read my uncle's will and figure out that he left this place to whoever claimed it." The redhead walked around the front of the car and went to stand beside Roxas, clasping his hands behind his back.

Then, reality swam into Roxas's vision. "Wait wait wait wait wait. Hold on for one second. You _live_ here?" His expression quickly changed from one of awe to sheer disbelief.

"Well, I told you that you would be staying with me, didn't I? Why is it so hard to believe that this is my house?"

"You're a teacher!" Roxas yelled, raking his hands through his hair. Axel only stared at him expectantly, waiting for a deeper explanation.

"Teacher's can't afford this kind of house!" He spit out quickly, turning from the house to Axel to the car. He completed the entire circuit about four times before finally calming down.

"Yes, well." Axel muttered, walking behind the blonde and grabbing his elbow as he went, dragging him along. "I have…an alternate source of income. So come along, Roxy. This is going to be a very interesting week."

"Don't call me Roxy." The blonde protested, again struggling to keep up with his teacher's long strides.

"Alright Roxy."

--

Dinner came around eight. Axel had vehemently made sure that Roxas finished his homework within an hour, cleaned up the room he would be staying in, completely moved in, and set the table before he could finally relax. The worst part? Roxas had to do it all without complaining, or the deal was off. He would have to write a term paper.

However, by the time the meal was finished, he wasn't all too upset. The entire house smelled basil and oregano and tomato sauce, and he could hear Axel in the kitchen one room away amidst the clanking of pots against pans.

Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. The place was eerily quiet (Roxas had an idea that by the time he was finally used to it, it would be time for him to leave). However, it didn't take very long for Axel to burst through the double swinging doors that led to the kitchen and into the dining room, in one hand carrying their dinner and in the other two glasses of water.

He approached the table, setting the spaghetti down in front of Roxas along with his water, and setting his serving down at his spot and taking a seat. However, he didn't touch his silverware. He just looked at Roxas, an expectant expression on his face. He looked…normal, and surprisingly un-teacher-like.

"Well? Aren't you going to eat any?" He asked. He was breathless, as though he had just finished a marathon.

"Aren't you?" Roxas replied, staring at his food. It looked good, and there weren't any traced of poison…

He twirled some onto his fork the way he had seen many an Italian lady, then shoved it into his mouth like the hungry teenager he was. Naturally, it was delicious. Eyes widening in surprise, Roxas forked more of his dinner into his mouth, devouring virtually all of it in less then five minutes. When he looked up, he noticed that Axel hadn't even touched his own portion. Instead, he was watching Roxas with an amused look.

"Like it?" He asked, grinning. Roxas could swear he had never seen his teacher smile that wide. He could feel Axel unwinding, de-stressing, and altogether letting his defenses down.

"Its amazing. I never knew you could cook." He replied. Axel only shrugged and began slowly eating his own serving, handing Roxas another that had magically materialized in between them.

"Most people don't. But its okay. I don't mind." Roxas chose not to comment, and they ate in silence for a little while. Then, the blonde decided to let lose the question that had been nagging at the back of his conscience all day.

"So…you said something earlier about an 'alternate source of income.'" He stated conversationally.

"And you would like to know what it is." Axel said, giving Roxas an unreadable stare. "Am I correct?"

He nodded.

Axel returned the nod. "Very well. Let us finish dinner, then dessert, and I will tell you."

"…Just like that?"

"No. Of course not. You have to wash and put away the dishes once we're finished."

Roxas's only response was a groan.

--

"When I was little, I went to a family reunion. Its one of those things that no one really wants to go to; they have to because its an obligation. It was at that reunion that I met a certain uncle of mine. Uncle Hadrian. Uncle Hadrian was a very interesting man, you know. But somewhere along the line I got talking to him.

He wouldn't tell me exactly what it was that made him so rich, but I knew that he had ties in the Russian mafia from what I heard my parents talk about and that whatever it was probably wasn't exactly legal. But either way, he was filthy rich.

Another thing? He was really, really crazy. I mean, he wasn't like, hearing voices paranoid crazy, but he was pretty paranoid. Also, he was convinced that there was a hit out for him placed by the uppermost men in the Russian government. In short, not a lot of people talked to him.

That, and the fact that he was gay. The people in my family are very white-collar; they can't stand the idea of someone not being a while, straight Republican with a good, respectable job and a family to provide for. Which explains why when everyone ever spoke about him, it was never good.

My parents shooed me away from him before I could get to know him very well, and that was the last time I saw him until I was 16. I was afraid of coming out of the closet to my parents because I knew that they would most likely turn me into a taboo and kick me out of the house, so instead I ran away. To this mansion.

I'm quite sure that my family and I and the hired help were the only ones who knew how rich he was. He said to me that he couldn't risk publicizing his wealth. Since the family had nothing to do with him, it was just me, the maids, the butlers, and the chefs.

I came here first thing. I told him how I felt, not just about my sexual orientation but about my parents, our family, everything. I was trying to put myself on equal ground with him so that I could empathize with him; know how he felt and when he felt it.

However, instead of offering me wise words of comfort, he gave me a blank check with his signature on it and set me off into the world, to start my life. It was then that I decided to finished high school here in Rochester, go to college, major in psych, then go to art school.

After I graduated art school, I was so proud of myself that I came back here, to my uncle's, to thank him for the money, even though I knew he was just trying to get rid of me. However, upon walking into the house, a butler handed me the deed to the property, my uncle's will, and gave me complete and total control of everything.

Of course, I was stunned. I couldn't think of any reason for him to leave everything me, other than the fact that I didn't cringe away from him every time he was around. Then, upon reading his will, I found out that he didn't. It clearly stated that he was not planning on giving any of his money, estate, any of it away when he died. The first person to realize he was gone would automatically inherit it all.

I had bank account numbers, some of which weren't even in this country. I had this entire house, plus the vacation home in Italy and the small island he apparently owned off the coast of Chile. I had all of his money; billions of dollars, all tucked away in a small bank account. All of it was mine.

There was only one condition: I could only tell three people what had happened, or what he had given me. A condition that I had no trouble meeting. My parents and my older sister, the only one who didn't shun me, were the only ones who, as far I my knowledge extends, know. And now, of course, you.

I've fired all of the hired help, and I highly doubt that my uncle will be coming back from the grave to punish me, so I'm not worried. Plus, the information had probably leaked through my entire family already. Those who are still alive hate me too much to talk to me anymore."

Roxas was gaping. The story was almost completely unbelievable, but at the same time it made perfect sense. It was the reason that, before Axel had come to teach at his school, he had no past. It was the reason that he was able to afford the newest Ferrari and the Abercrombie clothes he was always wearing. It explained why nobody knew anything about him, except for Roxas.

"That's…" He was, naturally, at a loss for words. How did one respond to something like that? Axel had basically said that he now was in possession of his biggest secret, and he could whatever he wanted with it. The whole thing was overwhelming. It almost made Roxas wish he hadn't asked. Almost.

"Amazing? Unbelievable? Crazy? Or all of the above?" Axel asked, smiling. He and Roxas were curled up on his humongous faux-fur couch, Axel's hand resting softly on Roxas's ankle. The blonde didn't even notice.

"Its…awesome." Roxas finally, said, breaking out into a smile identical to his teacher's. "I wish something like that could happen to me. You know, aside from the family-shunning, uncle-dying part. That's kind of depressing. But everything else would be awesome."

"Would you like to know one of the reasons I became a teacher?" Axel asked, cocking an eyebrow. God Roxas wished he could do that. He tingled with envy briefly before realizing that he had a question to answer.

"Sure. Lay it on me."

"Because kids are the only people in the world who won't judge me for what I am."

"…You mean human? Why would we? We all are."

"Roxas."

"Yeah?"

"I mean gay."

Roxas, in response, snorted loudly. "Are you serious? That's like, ridiculous. I mean, homophobes are so stupid. They're just a bunch of narrow-minded Republicans who can't get enough of themselves so they need to make 21% of the nation's men and 22% of the nation's women feel bad. Its stupid. Plus…" He let the sentence fall into the air between them, shrugging.

Both of Axel's went up at his, and his finger's on Roxas's ankle twitched. "You mean you…?"

"Yeah. Big deal." Roxas shrugged again, feeling a blush heat his cheeks despite his nonchalance.

"Wow Roxas. I never would have guessed. Like…ever."

_Like ever. _Did teachers talk like that around their students anymore? Or, now that Roxas knew Axel's secret and Axel knew his, were they friends? Did their relationship now extend beyond the classroom? Beyond their deal?

"Most people don't. But I guess when you think about it a little it makes sense. I mean, I'm in an advanced art class, I've never had a girlfriend or been kissed, and my favorite part of the day, other than art class of course, has to be just between arriving at P.E. and starting. Also known as changing in the locker rooms. I guess I'm just good at covering things up. Always have been, always will be." In the course of a few sentences, Roxas spilled everything he felt about himself to Axel. Without even thinking. Was that wrong? Had he made a mistake?

However, Axel was just nodding slowly, smiling softly. "Alright. Well, you can trust that your secret will be safe with me."

Roxas felt a smile creep onto his face. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course. Who would I tell anyway? Your friends? I would gain absolutely nothing from sharing this with anyone, Roxas." He chuckled softly.

"Cool. Well, I think I'm gonna crash. Gotta get up early for school tomorrow, y'know?" He slid his feet onto the hard-wood floor and began padding down the hall to his bedroom.

"Yeah, I know. 'Night Roxas." Axel called, still sitting on the couch. "Sweet dreams!"

"Yeah, you too." Roxas mumbled under his breath, opening the door to his bedroom and slipping inside.


	3. Day 2

For Roxas, driving to school with Axel the next morning was far less awkward and tense than it had been the day before. Maybe it had something to do with their exchange of deeply personal information the night before, maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had woken up in Axel's bed that morning (and no, not the bed that Axel slept in. A bed that belonged to Axel).

The commute to the school seemed shorter than it had the previous day. Roxas felt much more comfortable in the nice, expensive car that he knew had been legitimately attained (as opposed to stolen). He had time to appreciate the nice interior, with its leather bucket seats and advanced sound system. It was…nice.

He wasn't sure why he expected class to be any different by the time their first period with Axel rolled around (because they were advanced they were given three periods a day with him) but he did. And, low and behold, almost everything was exactly the same. Almost.

They walked into the classroom, the last of them filing in, to see four huge white sheets covering each of the walls. As soon as all eleven of them had taken their seats, Axel closed the door and began speaking.

"Jackson Pollock! You all should know him, having been my pupils for a full eight months by now. He was one of the greatest artists ever to live. Why is that, Naminé?"

The blonde girl looked up, startled. "Um…because he…uh…"

"Incorrect. Sora?" Axel was blowing through the lesson. Roxas could already tell. They had a project in front of them, and he was excited.

"Because his art is amazing and changed the country forever." The brunette blurted out, spilling an answer before Axel could call him wrong and call on someone else.

"Closer. Olette?"

She didn't even look up from her phone. Roxas wondered why she was in the class in the first place; all she ever did was text. "I'm going to be wrong. Call on someone else."

Axel made his way through the entire class; Pence, Hayner, Zexion, Demyx, Larxene, Xemnas, and Vexen. It was, in Roxas's eyes, incredibly pathetic.

After what seemed like an eternity of wrong and just plain embarrassing answers, Axel finally called of Roxas. The blonde had the feeling that his teacher had been avoiding this, considering that he was called on last, but he was almost positive it was because Axel knew his answer would be right (he derived some sort of pleasure out of telling the students they were incorrect).

"Roxas, who was Jackson Pollock?"

"He was a painter of some era that I don't know, and he's important because his paintings not only convey the general 'I don't give a shit.' feeling, but they also illustrate his emotions during the times he painted, giving the viewer a look into his personal life. In a sense." He smirked, even though by now the class was used to his painfully correct answers.

"Very good. Now, today, I have a project for you all." It was scary, how everyone's heads snapped up at the word 'project.' "As you can see, the walls are covered in white sheets. Jackson Pollock was a man who didn't really care where his art went, and today, neither to we. I will split you up into two groups of five, and you will each coordinate colors after my example to create your own art. Understand?"

Enthusiastic nods.

"Good. Well then. Let's have Olette, Vexen, Demyx, Zexion, and Sora. Then, obviously, Hayner, Pence, Larxene, Xemnas, and Naminé." Each of the students moved to their respective sides of the classroom, breaking up into their groups, leaving Roxas sitting in the middle. Alone. Vulnerable.

"Roxas!" Axel called, a little to excited for the blonde's comfort. "Come up here."

"Um…" He gulped loudly. "May I ask why?"

"Of course you can. You, my dear, are going to be my human canvas. The example for the rest of the class to follow while painting. Now come. I'm excited." He motioned with his hands for Roxas to come forward, and Roxas did.

However, not before glancing down at what he was wearing: he was feeling lazy this morning, so he threw on a white tank-top. No sleeves. It was warm out, so he decided to wear his khaki cargo shorts with his black flip flops. The outfit itself looked really nice, matching and everything. And now it was going to turn into a canvas. Along with Roxas himself.

When he got up there, Axel touched his arm lightly. "Don't worry." He whispered. "I plan on using acrylics, and I don't mind if any paint decorates my showers. It won't be too scarring; I promise." He smiled softly and walked over to his desk, leaving Roxas to stand in front of the white sheets and wait.

He heard Axel squeezing the paint into a tin, heard the water mix with it, and heard the brush hungrily lapping up the liquid. He was incredibly tense, and only when he glanced down at himself did he realize that his shoulders were about in line with his jaw.

"Roxas, close your eyes. Don't open them until I give you the okay."

"Alright."

"Ready? One, two, three--"

--

It killed Roxas that Axel could care less about the fact that he was getting red, purple, grey, black, white, and green acrylic paints all over the nice leather of his car seats. In fact, he even asked Axel several times if he wanted to borrow a towel from the swim team to put down; the teacher had declined every time.

"Relax, Roxas. I can always wash the seats off later. Right now, my main concern is getting all of the paint out of your hair before the pretty blonde turns into some sort of nasty purple concoction." He had his messenger bad slung over his shoulder and was climbing into the car, turning on the ignition without waiting for Roxas to respond.

Slowly, he climbed in the car. Now only half afraid that he was going to hurt the leather, and half focusing on the fact that Axel had said that he had 'pretty blonde' hair. He knew that was a compliment, and he found that he…enjoyed it. The praise, if nothing else. He blamed his slow reactions on the saint on his right shoulder arguing with the demon on his left about whether or not he should enjoy Axel's praise.

The ride home was quiet, like it was yesterday. However, now the blonde was sure that there was none of the awkward tension between them. He finally understood the reason that Axel had chosen this form of "punishment" instead of something else; he wanted to get to know Roxas better. Right? That was what he was looking for, wasn't it? Or was that Roxas's mind, short-circuiting after going a million miles an hour, was making him believe that that was what Axel had been going after? What if it was just an attempt to make Roxas miserable? Or to relieve some of the stress from Axel's everyday?

"Roxas." The sound of Axel's voice and they sped up the driveway snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes?"

"You're mumbling."

"I am?"

"You were."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

More silence. What kind of conversation was that? Was it even a conversation, or just an exchange? What did it mean? Did it mean that Axel had only spoken to him out of necessity, to get him to shut up? Or did it mean that Axel was so taken by the fact that Roxas was talking to himself that he listened in amusement for a little while before alerting the blonde? What if their brief words just meant that Roxas was mumbling, and Axed had told him?

It took Roxas a few minutes to wrap his mind around the fact that Axel actually lived in the huge residence in front of him (because it couldn't be described as a home). He stood outside, gaping, and Axel stood at his side as he had the day before. Was he standing closer? Roxas couldn't tell. But then again, there would be plenty of time to figure that out later. While he wasn't busy taking in the enormity of his temporary residence.

"Come on, Roxy. You need a shower." Axel tugged on his elbow gently, walking inside. He didn't drag Roxas with him again, just assumed he was being followed. And he was.

"Do I really smell that bad?"

An airy laugh. Roxas liked the way Axel's laugh sounded. _No you don't._ He told himself. _You don't like the sound of Axel's laugh, because next thing you know you're going to like the way he looks at you, or the way he tucks you in at night, or the way he moans when you--_

"--just look kind of funny with all of that paint splattered over you. You don't have to if you don't want to." They were inside. When did that happen? Axel dropped his bag against the wall, and Roxas followed suit (for some strange reason he had no homework tonight) and began up the winding staircase to his bathroom and bedroom.

"Will dinner be ready by the time I'm back?"

"Probably not. But it should be about thirty minutes after you get out. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. That's fine. Thanks."

--

The shower helped him calm down; helped him put things in perspective. Roxas could almost feel the muscles in his back unwinding, and enjoyed watching as the various colors of paint washed off of his body and down the drain. Because his shirt had been so thin, he had paint on almost every inch of his body, not including the areas that his shorts had covered.

The class had had great fun watching Axel paint Roxas, and Olette had yelled something out about how what Axel was doing was a twisted form of body paints. Most of it, however, had included Roxas focusing on how cold the water and paint was that Axel was using, and how even though the redhead had been whipping paint at him, it hadn't hurt. Was that on purpose, or not?

He climbed out of the shower a half an hour later, fingers wrinkled and hair dripping. He dried off in his bedroom and jumped into his pajamas, despite the fact that it was only about five o'clock (they left the school at about four).

He stepped into the hallway and walked down the staircase to be greeted by the tantalizing scent of well-cooked steak. It was amazing. Roxas couldn't remember the last time he had steak, but he knew that it had been too long. And if last night was any testament to how well Axel cooked, tonight would not disappoint.

--

"Did you enjoy class today?"

"I'm sure everyone else had more fun than I did."

"I'm sorry."

Roxas let his fork fall against his plate, surprised by Axel's words. He was…sorry? For what? Making him be his human canvas? Throwing the paint at him? Sure, Roxas hadn't been the happiest camper about being forced to allow his teacher to paint on him, but he hadn't been upset. So why was he apologizing?

"You don't have to do that." He muttered, finishing off the last bites of his steak and leaning back, sighing contentedly. "It wasn't like the end of the world."

Axel was eating about two light-years slower than Roxas, as he had the night before. However, there were no seconds tonight. He was nodding, and set his silverware down after the bite he had just taken.

"Still. I…feel like I took advantage of the deal. And I'm sorry." He smiled softly, then continued eating.

"Well, in that case, your apology is accepted." Roxas answered, smiling back even though Axel couldn't see him. For a reason that he was sure he could put a name to eventually, it made him happy that Axel didn't want to take advantage of him.

--

Apparently, at some point, Axel had changed the sheets on his bed. Not that he minded; one of Roxas's favorite feelings was curling up in new, warm, crisp sheets and falling asleep against the fresh-scented pillowcases.

The new set was blue, and it matched the color of his eyes. He wondered idly if Axel did that on purpose, but the thought was almost completely banished as soon as his head hit the pillow. Well, one of the ten pillows that Axel used to cushion the king-sized Tempurpedic mattress that served as Roxas's bed.

He crawled slowly to the center of the bed, shoving his arms under the pillows and burying his face in the soft, fresh fabric. With his full stomach and still-damp hair, it didn't take very long for him to drift into a deep, restful sleep.

So it made sense that when, three hours later, Axel creaked open his door and came sit on the edge of his bed, he didn't even stir. He didn't move when Axel brushed his blonde bangs out of his forehead and closed eyes, tucking it softly behind his hair.

Only when his door clicked shut and the room was again plunged into darkness did Roxas blink his eyes open, trying to remember the very, very sweet dream that he had been woken up from.


	4. Day 3 Friday

"So Roxas."

"So Axel."

"I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

The redhead set down his fork, folding his hands over his half-finished lasagna (home-made of course). His eyes were trained of Roxas, and even though the blonde had only been living with the guy for three days, he could already tell that this was going to be a semi-serious conversation. At least, as serious as Axel could be.

"Would you care to tell me why your parents haven't called the police on me yet? Or an Amber Alert hasn't gone out for your unexplained disappearance?" He was calm, it seemed. Not angry. Then again, why would he be?

This time, it was Roxas's turn to set down his fork and fix Axel with his gaze. Should he tell his teacher about his family situation? Or, for the record, lack thereof? Axel had already told him his biggest secret. Roxas had kindly returned the favor. Now, he was being asked to tell his _second_ biggest secret.

"Its…kind of a long story."

"There's a lot of lasagna left." Ah, so he was going to be persistent. How…Axel.

It wasn't very long before Roxas was overtaken by his internal monologues again, arguing with himself that if he didn't tell Axel, he would be doing their relationship no favors. But then again, what kind of relationship did they even have? Student teacher, or more? Or less?

Roxas was unsure of how long it finally took him to decide, but once he finally did, he noticed that Axel's half-finished slice of yummy-ness had been replaced by a new, full one.

"Alright. I'll tell you."

"I'm listening."

"It shouldn't be very difficult for you to follow along. My mom and my dad got a divorce when I was nine. After that, I was thrown between the two houses, my dad hardly leaving me alone and my mom not leaving work enough to pay attention to me. For some strange reason, she moved for sole-custody when I was eleven. I guess she was tired to shepherding me around or something. My dad was so distraught that he joined the Air Force, hoping to be killed in combat or something, and I still have no idea what's going on with that. And my mom's still a work-a-holic, so the fact that she hasn't noticed I'm gone yet isn't any big surprise. Plus, when she does, she'll probably figure I'm staying over at Sora's or Naminé's house or something. That's pretty much been the last three years of my life. Because, y'know, now I'm 14." He spilled out everything that his teacher needed to know in a short series of run-on's and breathlessness. Was it really this easy, telling Axel things? Would it always be this simple to explain stuff to him?

The redhead was watching Roxas with an unreadable expression, and he couldn't tell if Axel was expecting him to say more or if he was trying to empathize.

They were staring at each other. Right in the eyes. Roxas into Axel's, to try to determine what exactly it was that was expected of him. Axel into Roxas's, trying to find that little spark in the boy's eyes the would indicate that he had trusted Axel with this; had confided in him.

It didn't take very long for them to break away, but when they did, they were left with an awkward silence that thundered throughout the rest of their meal. When they were finished, Axel silently volunteered to do the dishes, leaving Roxas to wonder into the living room where they would most likely start a movie. That was when his phone started vibrating.

--

"Hey Axel!" The blonde called into the kitchen, not even bothering to search for his teacher.

"Hey what?"

"Sora just texted me. He wants me to go to the mall and hang out with him an Naminé and those guys. I was just wondering if you could drop me off in the Ferrari. Turn a few heads, y'know?"

"Who said you could go?" That stopped Roxas in his tracks. Who said he could go? Who said he _couldn't_ go? Why wouldn't he be able to go? Was one of Axel's new crazy rules that he had to stay in on a Friday when his friends invite him out?

"I…um…"

"Relax. I'm not that crazy. Just make sure you ask, not tell me you're going out. And yes, we can take the Ferrari."

Whoa. Was Axel like, bipolar? Did his moods change this quickly? Had his moods changed? Roxas rubbed his temples and followed his teacher out to the garage, desperately confused. Why on Earth did it seem like Axel was acting so weird? And why was Roxas freaking out about it so much?

_That's not normal Roxas._ Ah, his mother's voice. How fitting.

_What's not normal?_

_You shouldn't be this concerned about him. _

_Who said I was concerned. _

_Roxas, love, I am merely the rational part of your mind. _Some _part must be concerned about him, or I wouldn't know about it. _

_Whatever. Shut up. _

_Excuse me? _

"Roxas."

"Hm?"

"Did you hear me?" The blonde turned to look out the window, and noticed that it looked like they were already halfway down the driveway. When did that happen?

"No. Sorry. Say again?"

"I said you have to be home in two hours, and to call me when you're ready. And I'm not going to drop any of your friends off in this car either. Alright?"

"Fine by me."

"Okay."

Then, their comfortable silence. Roxas was beginning to like these breaks in the conversation; Axel felt like the one person on Earth he could be quiet around without having to worry if his silence was being judged somehow. He hoped Axel felt the same way; that would mean that he didn't mind Roxas's company, right? And that _was_ something Roxas wanted, wasn't it?

The entire ride to the mall was carried out in silence. Roxas could sense a nerve of tension radiating off of Axel, and he wondered idly what could have caused it before he saw the large stone fixtures that marked the entrance to the Eastview. The small Ferrari pulled up in front of it, Axel cutting the engine and turning to Roxas with a sigh. He only spoke when the blonde had one hand on the door handle and was already ready to jump out and brag about his ride to his friends.

"Roxas?"

"Mm?"

"I'm sorry."

Double take. "You're…sorry." _Wow Roxas._ He thought. _Nice one._

"About my mood." Axel clarified quickly, running a hand through his unmanageable mane of hair. "I know I've been kind of tense lately. And that's not like me and stuff. Or whatever someone's supposed to say in this kind of situation. But I just wanted you to know that…its not anything you did or anything. Like, I mean, I'm not mad at you. 'Kay?"

"Oh. Um…okay, I guess." Roxas gave him a nervous smile, and Axel smiled back, softly touching the back of his student's hand closest to his.

"Thanks for putting up with me, then. Remember, two hours."

Roxas let his hand linger a moment longer than he should have before pushing the door open and stepping out into the chilly night air. "Two hours. And yes, I still have your number in my phone."

They both smiled a little wider before Roxas slammed the door and walked inside, met by surprised gasps from his friends, and Axel drove around to the other side of the mall, parked, and walked inside.

--

Axel didn't like to think of what he was doing as stalking. Because Roxas was living with him, and they had come here in his car, and the Eastview Mall wasn't exactly bustling at ten o'clock at night, he just liked to consider himself a late-shopper. Because stalking was rather severe.

Finding Roxas and his friends was hardly difficult. They were loud, obnoxious, and took up pretty much the entire mall's food court (there were only about six of them, by the way). Despite the few other shoppers and employees, they were the only ones in the mall.

The redhead couldn't fathom why Roxas would spend his spare time with these kids. They were so different from he; where Roxas was mature, his friends were immature. Where Roxas acted about five years older than he was, his friends acted about five years younger. Where Roxas was quiet, subdued, yet fascinating all at the same time, his friends were simply teenagers. None of them had anything in common with the blonde. Yet he looked like he was having a good time.

Axel slumped in the two-person table in the corner of a coffee shop that gave him a perfect view of Roxas. He was sucking on the end of a straw that fed him an iced cappuccino with whipped cream, taking mental notes on how different Roxas was around his friends than he was around him, the good and the bad.

Around Axel, Roxas talked. It didn't really matter what they were talking about, but it seemed once they had a conversation that touched on a topic that Roxas considered a little personal, he couldn't _stop_ talking about it. Which didn't bother Axel in the least. He loved learning about Roxas's little mannerisms, his quirks.

Roxas acted so much older around Axel than he already was, and it was painfully deceiving. He was so mature, in the not only the way he acted but how he spoke. How he carried himself. The way he regarded Axel differently inside of school and out. These were the things that Axel loved about his little student, the things that allowed him to spend nearly all of his free time with the blonde.

Around his friends, Roxas was quieter. He would sit back at listen to them as they each shared their own outrageous stories, most of which were probably half fabricated anyway. He would watch as they ransacked the entire mall, going into stores screaming and leaving with twenty bags each, him with nothing. He looked…fascinated, in the least. It was interesting.

Roxas didn't act older around his friends, because he wasn't really given an opportunity to do anything. Most of the time when he was speaking, his friends would interrupt him. He went into every single store with nothing, and that was what he came out with. He walked a good three feet behind his entire group, probably trying to make it clear that yes, he was with them but no, he did not condone what they were doing.

Axel couldn't pretend that his heart didn't do a small back flip when he saw the relief that washed over Roxas's face as he pulled out his cell phone two hours later and pressed a button. One, single, button. Roxas had Axel on speed dial.

The phone in the redhead's pocket began to vibrate, and he quickly strode a distance where Roxas could neither hear nor see him before answering. They exchanged quick words, determined that Axel would pick Roxas up where he had dropped him off, and with that the expedition was over.

--

When Roxas slept, he was, in a word, beautiful. His face was so peaceful and serene, and it didn't even look like his sleep was marred with bad dreams. When Axel cracked open the door to his room and a shaft of light spilled over his relaxed features, the redhead practically stopped breathing.

He slipped quietly into his student's room, forgetting all formalities and just focusing on _Roxas_. Focusing on just Roxas and Roxas alone was what helped Axel cope with what he had been fighting with all week; his reason for having Roxas stay at his mansion, his reason for going to easy on him with the ridiculous requests.

He sat down softly on the edge of the bed, and Roxas mumbled something incoherent in his sleep but other than that showed no sign that he was even aware of Axel's presence. God, he was so beautiful. It was almost abnormal.

Slowly bending down, Axel brushed Roxas's bangs out of his closed eyes and let his lips hover just above the blonde's cheek, barely even grazing it. His breath floated over Roxas, and Axel closed his eyes, enjoying the close proximity but wishing for so much more.

"Oh, Roxas." He whispered, his voice betraying his pain and his doubt. "If only…if only you could see me the way I see you."

With that, he placed a soft kiss against Roxas's cheek and left the room. He made sure the door was shut tight, and because of this he didn't notice when Roxas opened his eyes and slowly reached up to touch the spot where his teacher had kissed him.


	5. Day 4

There were a number of ways you could describe how Roxas was feeling, mostly ranging from confused to angry with himself to angry at Axel to wondering whether or not he dreamed the whole thing, et cetera. Mostly, all of these feelings centered around the idle thought that hey, maybe Roxas hadn't really minded Axel sneaking into his room late at night and kissing him while he thought the boy was sleeping. But then again, maybe they were centered around the thought that Roxas was completely freaked out because his favorite teacher pretty much had a crush on him. That was where the confusion came in.

The great things about Saturdays were that you didn't have to get out of bed if you didn't want to. There was no school to get up early for, no job you had to go to. You could go the day without food if you wanted and make up for it the next day at breakfast after Church, and you could read and watch TV and do whatever it was that made you happy as you lay in bed. Or you could be like Roxas and lay there, pretending to be sick so that Axle wouldn't make you get up and you could think about how you were going to handle the entire situation.

"Roxas, what's the matter? I can't just assume you're sick without something to go on." The redhead pleaded, sitting on the side of the bed in the exact same spot he had the night before.

"Its my stomach." Roxas moaned into his pillows, clutching his gut and faking random sounds of pain. "Its killing me. I feel like I'm going to implode."

"Do you want some Pepto Bismol? A mint? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" He softly placed his hand on the small of Roxas's back, and the blonde just shook his head.

"I think I'm just going to stay laid up for the day." He turned around, dislodging Axel's hand and staring at him with the most innocent, pathetic expression he could muster. "Take it easy, y'know? Hopefully it'll pass or something. Maybe its something I ate."

"Well…I guess so. But I have some stuff I have to get done today, so I'm not going to be home all day. If there's anything you need, if you can't get, just call me, okay? I mean, I want to make you as comfortable as possible…" He offered up a hesitant smile, which Roxas easily returned, then stood up and headed towards the door.

"Hey Axel." Roxas called just before his teacher closed the door. The redhead halted immediately and opened it more, revealing his face.

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"No problem, Roxy." The door was shut before Roxas could complain about the nickname that he seemed to have acquired.

--

Here was Roxas's biggest problem: He wasn't sure that he particularly had a problem with the way Axel was apparently feeling. Of course, any normal person would be completely put off by what his teacher had done and would most likely flee the house the first moment they got, but then again, no one ever was bold enough to accuse Roxas of being a normal person.

He tried to tell himself a thousand times while Axel was out and his stomach felt fine that he was disgusted, sickened, anything that would make him feel better. But every single time, the tips of his fingers somehow ended up grazing that spot that Axel had kissed him, and each and every thought that could possibly make what he was feeling a bad thing vanished.

He had been debating with himself whether or not he had a crush on Axel for the last three months or so. Every student in their class knew that he and Axel were definitely close, but what exactly did 'close' mean? Did it mean that their relationship was a good one, and that Axel was a great teacher? Or did it mean that their relationship was a great one, and Roxas would be able to have special access to Axel outside of school, and be with him in a way that would ensure the loss of his job, best case scenario?

The blonde flopped over on his back and stared at the ceiling for what had to be an hour, letting his thoughts roam before finally glancing at the clock. One o'clock p.m. Great. He had been in bed for the entire morning.

Slowly, reluctantly, he slid out of bed and made his way downstairs and a painfully lethargic pace. When he got down there, he was greeted by a note on the refrigerator:

Roxas,

I threw some pancakes in the fridge for you a little earlier, so if you want to heat those up for breakfast you can. Also, there are some eggs left in the carton (I assume you know how to make scrambled eggs) and enough bread for some toast, should you feel so inclined. If none of this should appeal to you, there is a number on the back of this note for a take-out service with great breakfast specials. I hope you feel better, and I should be home around six, save some great disaster.

Affectionately,

Axel

His handwriting was hardly neat, but legible. His signature was his trade over-sized 'a' and then the other three, unimportant letters. Roxas had to read it a few times to fully understand what the message on the note was trying to convey to him; Axel was gone for a while, there was food in the fridge, and he could get take-out.

_So,_ Roxas thought, pulling the pancakes out and throwing them in the microwave for thirty-five seconds. _What does one have for breakfast when pondering a relationship with one's teacher? _

--

_Slowly, he traced my inner-thigh, and I think we both heard my breath hitch. He cast a patient, all-know, we-can-stop-if-you-want-to look, but I shook my head and he kept going. God, his fingers were so soft. I've never felt anyone with fingers that soft. He was…abnormal. _

_His lips met my neck for what felt like the first and the millionth time all at once. His lips were as soft as his hands were, barely touching my skin as they ran from the base of my neck up to my ear. _

_"Are you sure you want to do this?" He whispered. His breath ghosted over my skin, giving me goose bumps, but I nodded anyway. _

_"I'm sure. I want this." _

_I knew he didn't need to be told twice, but I could feel his hesitation as he moved his hands from my legs to around my waist and kissed my neck harder. God, that felt so _good_. There was nothing he could do that wouldn't feel good; he could turn anyone into a sexual masochist. _

_He moved his lips to mind, quickly forcing my mouth open with his own and letting his tongue slip inside. It wasn't the first time he had kissed me like this, but it was the first time I could feel so much passion in his movements. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and in response, he--_

Roxas sat up straight in his bed, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. He was panting, and his heart was hammering so hard in his chest that he could feel it in his toes. The room was dark, so he assumed that a lot of time had passed since he had fallen asleep. When had that happened again? After breakfast?

He rubbed his eyes slowly, enjoying the sensation, before glancing over at the clock. It was about eight, which meant that Axel should be home.

Axel. His dream. Axel in his dream. Roxas blinked, shaking his head. He had found his answer before he had fallen asleep. That explained the dream. Didn't it? He couldn't think of any other reason for him to have a dream about…that. With Axel. The thought should have made him shiver, but instead he just sat up and swung his legs out onto the floor.

He heard the distant sound of pots and pans clattering coming from the kitchen; something he had grown used to. He stood at the top of the stairs for a few minutes, wondering whether or not he was ready to go downstairs and face Axel. Was the redhead cooking for two, hoping Roxas would join him? Or would he cook for just one, thinking that the blonde was too sick to eat?

After a few minutes of mental debate, Roxas headed back to his room and lazily climbed in bed, turning on the TV that decorated his wall. It was already set to USA (they had been having a Law and Order SVU marathon. How ironic), and the feature flick of the hour was One Hour Photo. Great, under-age relationships and creepy stalkers. Something to put Roxas in just the right mood.

It seemed like only seconds before Axel was softly creaking the door open, peering in on the dark room illuminated by the screen. He opened it more fully when he noticed that Roxas was awake, and walked into the room to once more sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Feeling any better?"

Roxas nodded in response, giving Axel a soft smile. "My stomach feels fine, but now I'm absolutely exhausted. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Insomnia." Boom. First bomb dropped. Axel's expression temporarily deadpanned, but if Roxas hadn't been looking for it it would have gone unnoticed.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He muttered, smiling softly. "Are you going to come down for dinner, or do you want me to leave you alone so you can get some sleep? Come check on you before I go to bed?"

Again, Roxas tried to offer the most innocently pathetic smile he could muster. "If you don't mind…"

They were both doing a ridiculous amount of smiling, but that didn't stop Axel from letting his expand into a grin. "Of course not. I hope you sleep well."

"I'm sure I will." Roxas whispered as his door was slowly shut, eliminating the light from the hallway in his room. Now, all there was left to do was wait.

--

To Roxas, it always seemed like Axel went to bed too early. Sure, Roxas usually went to bed at about eleven, but Axel was always asleep about a half an hour later. Tonight, however, it seemed like the redhead had chosen to stay up late. His bedtime couldn't come fast enough.

However, it had to come. Roxas watched the clock like a hawk, counting down hours, then minutes in sets of fifteen, sets of ten, sets of five, and so on. Was he obsessing? No. Of course not. He was nervous. And, like any other nervous person on Earth, he was making this a much bigger deal than he should be.

As soon as he heard the inevitable footsteps outside his door, he went into his temporary fake sleep state. He heard his door open a crack, heard Axel step inside, and heard the door close. He heard his teacher chuckle softly, then the sound of the TV being turned off and the light it had cast in the room disappearing. Axel walking over to his bed, sitting down. Leaning over, settling his lips just above Roxas's.

"Oh, Roxas." He breathed. "How, how, how am I going to be able to do this? How long am I going to have to hide from you, before you finally see through my disguise?"

The moment was perfect. The blonde couldn't resist. He let his eyes flutter open, then quickly wrapped his arms around Axel's neck before the redhead could pull away. He pulled his teacher down closer to him so that their lips were just barely touching, then:

"Too late, Professor." He whispered, and softly pushed his lips against Axel's.

It was better than it had been in his dream, because it was real. Sure, he could feel Axel's shock and hesitation in the movements (or lack thereof) of his lips, but could Axel feel Roxas's hesitation, too? Was Axel feeling the way Roxas's hands shook softly against his neck, or the way he had no idea what he was doing?

It was no surprise that Roxas didn't want to part from Axel for fear of whatever reaction he would receive. However, Axel barely left an inch between their lips before breaking into a smile and nuzzling Roxas's cheek.

"So you knew?" He whispered.

"I figured it out." Roxas whispered back, failing to mask the relief in his voice.

"Well. In that case, I have to go to bed." Almost immediately, Axel stood up, leaving Roxas gaping on the bed.

"What? That's it? You're just going to go to bed?"

Axel clicked his tongue. "Roxas, please. We both know that as soon as this high I'm riding from finding out exactly how we both feel wears off, I'm going to be torn between what I want and what I know is right, whether or not this was a dream…Its just going to be a whole big mess. Tomorrow, maybe the next day. If I were you, I'd just…pretend this whole thing didn't happen for a little while. Okay?"

"…What?"

"Don't worry. I'm not dumping you, because technically we were never together. And I'm not telling you that there isn't something. But then again, I'm not telling you that there _is_ something. Do you think you can handle that for about two days, Roxy?" Axel's tone was patient, but Roxas could hear that it was already starting to wear through. Talk about the silver lining of every cloud.

"No. I can't."

"Well, then, you're just going to have to continue pretending to be sick. I'm sorry. Don't be surprised if you don't see me in the morning. Or tomorrow, for that matter. I'm most likely going to lock myself in my room."

There was a pause, then, "This sucks."

"You're preaching to a choir, kiddo."


	6. Day 5

Roxas never really liked Sundays. He was never really for the getting up early to go to Church, the Sunday brunch with the family, and all of the cleaning that occurred afterwards. He hated how his mother would put him in a suit and tell him to be a good boy, and he hated wearing a white robe and walking around, doing the "dirty work" for the priest (a phrase that he and his fellow altar boys had coined). He hated sitting at a small table in a crappy diner with his mother and father (just his mother after the divorce) and faking that he was enjoying his pancakes.

Of course, at one point, he just had to tell it all to stop. That point just so happened to be the Sunday before he made the bet with Axel; a week ago. Was this karma's way of getting back at him? Was God punishing him for deciding that being an altar boy and eating shitty food with his mother every Sunday was a terrible tradition to be upheld? Or was it just plain bad luck?

The hardest part was talking himself out of bed and into the shower. He knew that he couldn't stay in bed all weekend; his friends would freak out and it would just plain suck. Plus, by now his sheets probably smelled like unclean. His hair felt greasier than a bacon pan, and he swore he could scrape the dirt off of his skin.

The shower went quickly. He just soaped, washed his hair, and jumped out. The anticipation of seeing whether or not Axel decided to get up was killing him. Had last night even happened? Had these last four and a half days actually happened, or had it all been a wishful dream? He found little solace in the fact that he would soon find out.

--

Roxas was 14, so he couldn't drive. He didn't even have a learner's permit or one of those little blue cards that he saw some of his friends walking around with; his main form of transportation was by skateboard or Axel. Unfortunately, there was no way he was going to risk his life skateboarding down that driveway of his teacher's, and the way things were looking the latter wasn't going to be an option. So, in short, he was stuck at the house until Axel made up his mind to do whatever it was he was planning on doing.

By some grace of God, there were still pancakes left from the day previous from Roxas to heat up. They were a little soggy with the syrup, but the blonde was sure that he could make due with what he had. There was, after all, the take-out number that Axel had given him. Axel. All of his thoughts led him back to the redhead.

There was the TV, too. Axel was one of those people who had to be subscribed to every single bonus channel that Time Warner Cable offered, so there were a ton of HBO movies, HDTV shows, et cetera. Unfortunately, none of them were able to hold Roxas's attention for too long. He was, pitifully enough, too preoccupied. Glancing at the clock, he groaned internally. It was only two in the afternoon; he would have to deal with his feelings of not being able to wait for the rest of the day.

In the game room, that Axel had shown him his second day there, he was able to keep himself busy with a rather frustrating game of darts and some pool for a while. That was good, and it allowed him to distract himself enough to flip on _Fight Club_ on AMC. His main focus was killing time, and so far he was doing a good job.

--

_I could feel his breath dancing across my skin, raising goose bumps. His arms encircled by waist protectively, yet affectionately at the same time. It was a feeling that was so hard to explain, and I loved it so much. I loved _him _so much. I would give anything for him in a heartbeat, all he would have to do was ask. And yet, by some twist of fate, he was the one who gave me everything. He was the one who provided me with everything I asked for. _

_He brought his lips back up my neck and rested his head against me, holding me close. _

_"I love you, Roxas." He whispered, again a phrase that seemed like the first and millionth time. "I love you so, so much." _

_"I love you too, Axel." I whispered back, stroking his hair and pressing my face against it. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." _

_"Likewise, kiddo." _

_"Ugh. Don't call me that." I could feel the chuckle that reverberated through Axel's chest and his entire body, softly shaking the couch. I sounded irritated, but we both knew I really didn't mind. _

_"Whatever you say, Roxy. Whatever you say." _

This time when Roxas woke up, his throat was tight. He didn't practically shoot out of his bed, and he wasn't sweating. But he could feel tears fighting their way out through his eyes, and a sob that was threatening to break through his throat. He was determined to keep it back.

He glanced at the clock, and it read eight thirty. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, because he couldn't remember if he had fallen asleep before or after _Fight Club_ had ended, but he knew that he would be getting his answer from Axel very, very soon. When they saw each other three times a day for an hour each during the week, he knew the redhead wouldn't be able to keep his answer a secret any longer.

Throwing himself off the couch, he trudged into the kitchen and dialed the number for the take-out place Axel had given him. It turned out that they were Italian instead of Chinese, spoke very good English, and apparently had the best spaghetti you could order in all of Rochester. He ordered two helpings, just incase something should happen, even though he knew he would most likely be eating alone tonight.

There wasn't a sound from Axel's room when the doorbell rang and Roxas answered it, when Roxas paid for his meal with money straight out of Axel's wallet, or when Roxas practically turned the kitchen up-side-down looking for a metal fork and steak knife he could use to cut his meatballs. The blonde poured half of the contents of the little plastic dish into a deep plate (or shallow bowl, depending on how you look at it) and set the other half in the refrigerator with a resigned sigh.

Now he knew how Axel must have felt the previous night. Eating alone was not a feature Roxas got to enjoy while at Axel's home, but eating with someone else was something that you grew used to. Eating with someone else that you grew to love was an added bonus, and without Axel here to fill the silences and keep conversation going, it was eerily quiet. Depressingly quiet.

--

Generally speaking, Roxas loved to sleep. He loved drifting into that place where you were awake, but just barely, right before you drifted off to sleep. He loved it when he finally did fall asleep, and watching in third person as his lucid dreams kept his brain working as the rest of him reenergized.

Tonight, however, none of that happened. He was way more awake than he was the night before, yet half as excited. He was just…meh. There was no way to describe what he was feeling except for meh. He wasn't bad, necessarily. However, he definitely wasn't good. He was just…meh.

He knew that if he were to fall asleep, he would dream of Axel. He knew that he would dream of Axel loving him (both physically and emotionally) and he knew that this would cause him to wake up with tears streaming down his cheeks and staining his already nasty pillowcase. Why, though? What reason did he have to cry? It wasn't like Axel had given their relationship a death sentence already. He had just given it a _maybe_.

Roxas flipped over on his stomach, groaning, throwing his arms under his pillow and yelling into it. God, this was frustrating. It was driving him crazy. Had this been how Axel had felt? When he was laying in bed, seconds after Roxas had kissed him, was he frustrated because he knew that he wanted the boy but could never have him? Roxas tried vainly to answer these questions, and it didn't take very long for his confusion to put him to sleep. 


	7. Day 6

Generally speaking, no one likes Mondays. They signify the end of the weekend and the beginning of the work-week, when everyone has to go back to school or work. It's the first day after two days of rest that you have to get up early and actually do something; the transition day. It is, in a word, loathsome.

However, the good thing about Mondays is, should you order something online with only business day shipping on, say, a Thursday, then it should arrive on Monday. Or, if you're Roxas, it's the day that your teacher has to confront you no matter what because he can't avoid giving you an answer when he's stuck with you three hours out of the day.

So imagine Roxas's surprise when, at seven thirty Monday morning, Axel came trudging down the stairs wearing a pair of plaid boxers, an overly large white t-shirt, and a bath robe.

"Um…Professor?" Roxas muttered, one of his eyebrows going up involuntarily. "We have to go to--"

He was cut off. "I called us in sick." The redhead muttered, pouring a cup of coffee from a pot that had miraculously started brewing. "We have the day off. Go back to bed."

The blonde's jaw dropped open. "You…we…uh…I'm sorry?" Axel had…called them in sick? As in, faked an illness in order to avoid giving Roxas an answer?

"You heard me." Axel answered, making his way out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and back upstairs. "We have the day off. You are free to do whatever you like, whenever you like. Three day weekend, I suppose. Have fun."

--

Roxas had never really liked Church, but that didn't change the fact that he had been brought up Catholic. Subsequently, he didn't really like lying. He didn't like withholding the truth from anyone, and he didn't like half-truths. Now, it was hardly fair to say that Axel was lying to, withholding the truth from, or "half-truthing" him. But the idea was the same.

Roxas was laying down on the couch with a pillow over his eyes, wrapped up in a blanket that he didn't need. His arms were folded over his covered face as though he was trying to smother himself, and his legs were knotted in his cover. The sight was, in a word, pathetic.

But how, he asked himself, should he act? He had been building himself up, _waiting_ to get an answer today. This morning. This afternoon. At school. He knew Axel wouldn't be able to avoid him, yet he was doing that exact thing. He had found the one loophole that would prevent the final part of Roxas's plan from falling perfectly into place. How was that fair? Only one answer came to Roxas's mind: It wasn't.

He had to have been laying there for about two hours before he heard someone on the stairs. Well, he heard Axel on the stairs (because why on Earth would there be someone else on the stairs?). He immediately threw the blanket off of him and sat up, the pillow falling to the ground, to be greeted by…nothing.

The entryway was completely empty, and Roxas couldn't hear anyone in the dining room or kitchen. There wasn't anyone else in the room with him, and if he had been going in the opposite direction, Axel knew all too well that he would have been greeted by closets and false doors. He had no reason to go to the closet, so…

_So I imagined it_. Roxas finished mentally. Was he really that desperate? That he was pretending to himself that he was hearing Axel, that his teacher was coming to give him an answer that he craved? What did one call that?

_Roxas, please._ Whose voice was that? Naminé's? Why on Earth…?

_Yes?_

_The answer is obvious. _

_The answer to what? _

_What you're feeling, stupid. _

_Oh? And what would that be? _

_You _love _him. _

_Whoa…what? No. That's stupid. A crush, maybe. But no. There is no way--_

_Stop it. You're being stupid. Like I said, its obvious. Why else would you be reacting the way you are to him? He has that kind of power over your emotions that no one else has. Because you love him~_

_Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up. _

_Its true. _

_That's enough, Naminé. _

_Hey, I'm just saying. _

_Yeah, yeah. _

There was no way that was true. Roxas wouldn't let himself believe it. He, love Axel? He was 14! He was too young to know what love was. Right? That's what New York State Law said, anyway. He was too young to love, too young to be loved…

Or was that the whole point of this? Was it his lack of love, lack of attention, that had attracted him to Axel? Had he fallen for the one person who had acted as though he cared for the blonde? Roxas laid back on the couch, thinking, realizing that as incredibly cheesy as the idea was, it made perfect sense.

He needed to distract himself from this. He needed to do anything that didn't involve thinking about his feelings for Axel. Thinking about the answer that Axel might give him, whenever the redhead decided that Roxas would be able to handle it or whatever he was waiting for. He needed to think about something that was completely irrelevant; something that would take his mind off the problem at hand until he felt that he could tackle it head on. And he had the entire day to do just that.

--

Ah, sleep. Who, really, doesn't love sleep? Save for the occasional insomniac or heroin de-toxee, sleep is the most amazing part of the day. Really, when you think about it, its quite an amazing process. Your body slows down to the point that, if you were awake, you'd be in danger of dying. Yet when you sleep, you're…not. Fascinating.

Wasting away an entire day knowing you're supposed to be in school turned out to be quite fun for Roxas. With the entire mansion at his disposal yet again, it was very easy for him to take his mind off of his redheaded teacher and indulge in the simple pleasures of his wealth. It took about twenty minutes for him to convince himself that, at eleven thirty that evening, he should put down the pool stick and go to bed.

Now he lay in bed, hands folded over his chest, staring blindly at the ceiling. With nothing there to distract him, it was just him an his thoughts and worries about Axel. Tomorrow was the last day of the bet, and what would happen then? Would Axel make him leave, constantly worrying about his answer? Or would he get an answer before the time of the bet had elapsed?

These many thoughts among others were what was keeping Roxas from falling asleep. They took up all of his conscious, keeping him up with questions that had no answers. Keeping him focused. That was why, about a half an hour later, he was completely scared out of his skin when his door cracked open and a lithe figure quickly slipped in his room.

He couldn't believe his eyes when the tall silhouette slowly approached his bed and sat on the edge, nonchalantly placing his hand rather high on Roxas's thigh.

"…Axel?" Roxas whispered uncertainly, dropping formalities in wake of his surprise. He was met with a light chuckle, then the feeling of Axel's breath very close against his face.

"Hello, Roxy. You've missed me?" His breath was ghosting across Roxas's face, and the blonde was quite sure the redhead knew how teasing this was. It was all he could do to gulp and nod.

"Heh. I suppose that's too be expected. And I assume you're eagerly awaiting hearing my decision, no?" Slowly, Axel drew his hand up Roxas thigh and let it rest against his night shirt, fingering the seam.

Again, gulp and nod.

"Well, in that case…" Roxas could feel the smile in Axel's breath as he quickly drew away and stood up, hovering over him. Then, seemingly without thinking, the redhead picked Roxas up and carried him wedding-style into the hallway and towards the stairs.

"Professor!" Roxas yelped, his arms instinctively going around Axel's neck for support. "What are you--"

"Hush, Roxas." Axel cut him off. "Just…relax. I'm going to give you an answer."

They reached the staircase, but instead of going down, Axel took them up. Roxas knew that for the house's enormity, there were only four floors; the first floor, with the kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, and closets. The second floor, with one guest bedroom, bathroom, and game room. The third floor, with three respective guest bed and bathrooms, and the fourth floor, which had Axel's room and bathroom. Roxas had been informed on his first night that he was not to set foot on this floor unless instructed to. He supposed this was the next best thing.

They continued to ascend the stairs, past the third floor and to the off-limits grounds. When they arrived, Roxas was almost surprised to see that this was hardly any different from any other floor in the house: the bedroom was through a door off to the left, the bathroom was about ten feet down from that, and to the right was a towel closet.

Axel carried him, obviously, to the door that was to his bedroom. It was open, and there was a dim light that emanated from the fireplace. The fire inside was cackling (hardly roaring), but as they approached Roxas could feel the heat it supplied and enjoyed the warm light it threw over the bed. The bed that looked it was king-sized with huge, fluffy pillows and sheets to match.

Axel set Roxas down on the bed softly, placing one knee on his left side and climbing up to sit on Roxas's hips, placing the other knee on his right.

"Now Roxas." He muttered, running his hands up and down the blonde's chest, lifting up his shirt a little more each time. "If you haven't figured out what I'm going to do by now…"

He let the sentence fall into the air between them, hoping he wouldn't have to finish it. Roxas, obviously knowing what Axel had been planning, only smiled. There was a brief silence between them before the blonde spoke.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Roxas?"

"…Are you nervous?"

"Ha. A little, I suppose. Why, are you?"

Gulp. "Um…"

"Roxas." He leaned down, brushing his lips against Roxas's. Again, Roxas was reminded of his dream, simultaneously realizing that yes, God, Axel's lips were so soft.

"I'm going to take good care of you." He whispered, the blonde feeling each of his words.

"I know." Roxas whispered back.

"Well, in that case." Axel turned his head slightly and glanced at his bedside clock, which just turned from 11:59 to 12:00 a.m. "Let us begin."


	8. Day 7

The reason most people checked into hotels is because they're on vacation in a place where they have no family and need somewhere to stay. While staying at said hotel, people generally experience the magic of an unfamiliar place. The most enjoyable part of this magic, for Roxas at least, was waking up in a bed that wasn't his own. He was able to experience a similar feeling waking up in Axel's bed on the morning of day seven, curled comfortably against the redhead's side.

Axel was slowly stroking Roxas's spine, and the blonde was vaguely aware of the quiet sound of the morning news echoing through the room. He fidgeted slightly, inching himself a little closer to Axel. Naturally this didn't go unnoticed, and Roxas could practically feel Axel's smile.

"Good morning, beautiful." He muttered, kissing the top of Roxas's head and wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders.

"Good morning Professor." Roxas muttered against Axel's shoulder, smiling.

"Ugh. Please stop calling me that. Especially now."

"Especially now?" The blonde pulled a little, his smile turning wry.

"Yes, especially now." Axel replied, narrowing his eyes and catching on quickly. "I think that kind of formality is hardly necessary while laying in my bed hardly three inches away from me. Less than three inches, in fact."

Roxas laughed. "Alright, alright. Whatever you say."

Sigh. "Just so you know, I…uh…sort of told the school secretary that we both contracted food poisoning from bad take-out, so she gave me the week off. So don't worry about what we're going to do once we go back to school."

"I actually wasn't worrying about that." Roxas said, looking at Axel with owlishly large eyes. "I was hoping you would handle it."

"I will." Axel replied, kissing Roxas's forehead softly. "All you have to do is act."

"Act?"

"So long as we're in school, the last seven days never took place. Alright?"

"Okay." Roxas tore his gaze from Axel's, tucking his head comfortably underneath his teacher's chin and burying his face against his neck. It didn't take very long for him to fall back asleep.

--

Spending the day with Axel as his boyfriend, Roxas learned, was much different that spending the day with him as a student whom he happened to be close to. It was, in fact, significantly different.

Contrary to what Roxas might have believed Axel to be as a "partner," he was very touchy-feely. He didn't want to take Roxas to the mall for fear that someone from school would see them (despite the fact that all of the 'someones' from school were actually in school), but he didn't have a problem taking him to downtown Rochester to go to his favorite café or buy Roxas a ridiculous amount of things he didn't need.

He was constantly holding Roxas's hand or had an arm around his shoulders or had an arm around his waist. He was constantly asking Roxas if he was uncomfortable or if he wanted to slow down or something. It was, for Axel, completely out of character. It was nice.

As they made there way to Axel's favorite restaurant to have lunch, the series of questions started up again. At this point in time, Axel's hand was folded comfortably around Roxas's, and he was leading him forward slowly.

"Roxas, are you sure I'm not taking this too fast for you?"

"Yes, Axel, I'm sure." He was still getting used to the feeling of his teacher's first name on his tongue.

"…Alright. Just…let me know if you want things to slow down at all, okay? Because I mean, I know that this is the kind of thing that takes some getting used to." He squeezed Roxas's hand reassuringly for the umpteenth time, but the boy didn't mind. He actually though Axel's behavior was kind of…cute.

"Well…there is one thing."

"Yes?"

"Could you stop buying me stuff?" It killed the blonde to say it for fear that he would hurt Axel's feelings, but the number of bags they had accumulated was getting overwhelming.

"…Oh. Uh, yeah, of course!" The frown that Roxas was sure he would see was instead a large grin and Axel took him through the door of a shabby little deli, his tall red head hardly fitting through. "Here we are!"

The inside wasn't what Roxas expected it to be. It was incredibly modern, with low tables and bean bags for chairs. The counter was decorated with an interesting arrangement of tiles, forming a mural that closely resembled the flag of Mexico. The menu was a chalkboard hanging on the wall behind the cash register and said counter, and it looked like everything was vegetarian. Axel took Roxas up to the counter where an employee with a hair net, apron, and plastic gloves was waiting for them.

"Axel, its nice to see you again. Its been a while, no?" She was short and looked Hispanic with dark, tanned skin and long black hair, eyes to match.

"Yes, its been a while. Too long, I believe."

"Ha-ha. Yes. I can get you the usual, no?"

"Yeah. And…Roxas, what do you want?" He turned on his heel to face the blonde, his eyes wide and curious.

"I'll…just have one of whatever you're having." Roxas sputtered quickly, examining the menu. The names for the sandwiches were, in a word, interesting, and there was no description to tell you what was in them.

"Well, Maria, you'd better make that two of the usual." He said, smiling again. The woman behind the counter nodded, then started to expertly assemble two, six-inch subs.

"What is it exactly that we're eating?" Roxas whispered, and Axel chuckled.

"You know the veggie delight at Subway?" Axel whispered back.

"Yeah."

"Well this is a lot like that."

"Oh. Okay." However, Roxas was hardly convinced when he was handed a sub that looked like it had a garden inside of it.

--

The rest of the day went far too quickly. After finishing lunch (which, to Roxas's surprise was not only edible but actually tasted pretty good) Axel took him to a small arcade, where the spent the better part of their afternoon. After finishing there, Axel insisted upon buying Roxas at least one new outfit, and with his large pleading eyes and quivering lip the blonde could do nothing but agree. After leaving the store with not one but three new outfits, Axel took Roxas to a little Italian pub/restaurant for a "celebratory" dinner. When Roxas asked what it was for, Axel gaped at him for about five minutes and said that of course, silly, it was their new relationship.

As he was sure Axel expected, Roxas asked at the end of the seventh day just after Axel sent him upstairs to pack his bags if he could stay. The redhead broke out into a grin, pulling Roxas against his chest in a soft hug and telling him that of course he could stay; he could stay as long as he liked. Roxas called his mother (who wasn't home; he had to leave a message) and explained the situation, told her not to worry, he was in good hands.

It was that night, after dinner as the two lay against each other comfortably on the couch, that Axel brought up the subject that they both had been avoiding all day.

"Roxas…there's something we need to talk about." He was stroking Roxas's hair slowly, occasionally trailing his fingers down the boy's neck, as said blonde dozed in his arms.

"What would that be?"

The redhead took a deep breath. "Should someone find out…you know what could happen to me, don't you?"

Silence.

"Roxas…"

"Axel, do we have to talk about this now?"

"I want to get it out of the way as soon as possible, just in case."

"If someone finds out and you…" Roxas paused, taking a deep breath. "And you should be taken to court, then I would testify on your behalf, saying that you didn't do anything to me and all that went on was a harmless crush gone a little too far. No big deal. Alright?"

"…Roxas?"

"Yeah."

"One more thing."

"What?"

"I…" Deep breath. "I love you, Roxy."

Chuckle. "I love you too, Axel."


	9. Epilogue

I think the part that I find, or found, most amazing about the entire ordeal was that we didn't get caught. Not that we thought we weren't going to get caught; I'm sure the both of us went through our separate (or not so separate) bouts of paranoia throughout the entire thing. But no one ever inquired into what I thought was a blatantly obvious relationship, and no one ever asked me why we were so close, or why we always went home together. Not once.

Roxas has to be one of the most amazing people (not children, people) I've ever met. Not only is he ridiculously mature for his age, but he somehow managed to lodge himself into my life, and I haven't been able to dislodge him ever since. Of course, that would imply that I tried to dislodge him, and that would be a lie. I was, and still am, perfectly content with our relationship. I'd even go as far as saying I'm happy; something that happens far too rarely.

Anyway, back to what I had planned on saying. The rest of his freshmen year went by very quickly, but there was only one month left, so that's hardly saying anything. What scared me was how quickly he went from being a young, innocent 14-year-old boy to a…senior. Not that his high school status made me love him any less; it was just interesting to see the way that age, power, and our relationship effected him as a person. There was hardly any change.

In the seventh month of his senior year, Roxas shared with me while we were sitting on the porch of our newly purchased lake house that, at the graduation ceremony after school got out (and, conveniently, a mere week after his eighteenth birthday) he wanted to share with his friends and my colleagues the "news" of our relationship. Naturally, I abhorred this idea, telling him that I would most likely lose my job and respect in the teaching community. He informed me that, over the last four years, those were the two things that I felt were most disposable. After all, he said, I would always have him.

So, despite my better judgment, I finally agreed. He had happily thrown himself into my arms and nuzzled my neck so much that I was sure he wouldn't be able to pull himself away, even if he wanted to. He had thanked me repeatedly (despite how much I told him to stop) and had further expressed his gratitude later that night. So maybe it wasn't a such a bad idea. That is, until the actual day arrived. June 31st.

"Axel!" The call resounded through the entire cottage, coming from his bedroom; the only purpose it served was to store all of his things that couldn't be squeezed into my room.

"What?" I yelled back, setting down my book and standing up in anticipation of having to help him with something.

"How do you get this dumb thing on? I can't figure it out! Come help me!!!" The last part came out as a childish whine, and I couldn't help but grin, quickly weaving my way through the halls and into his room. He was standing there, in a wife beater and his boxers, looking distressed.

"Roxas." I said and walked over to him, picking up the black gown from the floor and unzipping it. "Its really not that difficult."

"Well when's the last time you had to put one of these things on?" He whined again, allowing me to slip it over his head and zip it up behind him. God, he looked great.

"A decade ago. But let's stop talking about how old I am, and start talking about how excited you should be." He turned around and, without warning, threw himself against my chest, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm not excited, I'm nervous. I was excited on the last day of school. Now I'm just…ugh. What happens if I get you fired? Or like, sent to jail or something? Or what if they call me to get my diploma, and I trip and fall on my face?" He looked up at me with his huge, deep blue eyes and pouted.

"And what if none of that happens and you do perfectly well?" I countered, smile steadily becoming wider. "Plus, no one ever said we have to tell them we slept together. Just that we are together." I shrugged to emphasize my point. "Everything's going to be fine."

He groaned and pressed his face back against my chest, and I stroked his hair. "Don't worry, Roxy." I whispered. "All you have to do is walk across a stage, take a diploma, shake someone's hand, and then the after party. It'll be fine. You'll be fine."

"Yeah, yeah." He mumbled, then slowly and reluctantly pulled away. "Well, I'd better start getting ready. Shoo." With that, he waved me out the door.

"Why do I have to leave?" Now it was my turn to pout, but he was entirely unmoved.

"Because seeing me in my graduation outfit now is like seeing a bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Out."

"Does this mean we're taking separate cars?"

He sighed in mock frustration, but smiled anyway. "No. We're taking the Ferrari."

--

Ah, the after party. In case, dear reader, you're wondering, the graduation went like every other graduation since the beginning of mankind; long, boring, and flawless. Well, boring save for the part that Roxas walked onto the stage and received his diploma. That part I enjoyed. He, on the other hand, was more than eager to leave his friends and head over to the party. Naturally, I was more than happy to oblige.

Now I was standing on the edge of this overly crowded room, talking to students who would be moving onto college and offering my thanks and ignoring those whom I never taught. Roxas said that he wanted to wait until he had an opportunity to get all of his friends alone, as not to be disturbed by anyone he didn't want to have this information. Some high school rivalries just never died.

It didn't take very long for he and his small, more intimate group made their way over to me, all smiles and cheer.

"Professor!" He called, and I grinned at him. We had been playing this game for four years; what's one more day?

"Roxas, Naminé, Sora…" I looked between all three of them, and despite the fact that I was not one for these types of occasions, I couldn't prevent the swell of loss the rose inside me. "Its been a good four years, has it not?"

As if on command, Naminé's lower lip began to tremble, and I could see years forming in her eyes. It wasn't very long before she had thrown her arms around me, a small difference in our heights because of her heels, and was crying into my shoulder.

"Professor!" She wailed. "I'm going to m-miss you s-so much!" I hugged her lightly, making sure not to be too intimate (I still had an image to preserve, as outlandish as that seemed). Sora hesitantly stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, and Roxas hung back, his clear displeasure showing on his face. I smiled reassuringly at him, even though we both knew he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It took about five minutes to dislodge Naminé from around my waist, but we (meaning Sora and I) were finally able to get her to let me go. She came away, eyes red and sniffling, apologizing for not being able to control herself.

"Its okay." I said, patting her shoulder. "I'm going to miss all you guys, too."

Sniffle. "You-you're just such a good art teacher and…I kn-know that my college professor won't be as g-good as you."

"Why thank-you, Naminé." I turned from her, to Sora, then to Roxas, and my smile instinctively grew wider. He smiled back at me, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my shoulder. Almost as expected, neither Naminé nor Sora thought this odd.

"We're all going to miss you." He muttered, and I could hear the satisfaction behind his words that he would be seeing me very, very shortly.

"And I'm going to miss you all." I replied softly, hugging him tightly for the briefest of moments. It was quiet for a moment before Sora spoke up.

"So Roxas," He said as the blonde was pulling away from me. "You said there was something you wanted to tell us?"

--

"See? Didn't I say that it was a good idea?" We were leaving the party, mere minutes after sharing our long held secret with Roxas's friends. It had actually gone pretty well; neither of them seemed too shocked. Naminé even said that she had thought something was going on, but she was too polite to ask anyone. Sora had just shrugged and said that pretty much everyone in the class had seen it coming, but he was glad Roxas had told him anyways.

"You said that it wasn't a bad idea." I replied, smiling softly and holding Roxas's hand with the one that I currently wasn't using on the steering wheel.

"Same difference." He muttered, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the back of my hand. "Did you have a good time?"

"Did you?"

"I asked first." I couldn't help but laugh; four years, and we were still together. Sure, we had a rather odd relationship, but we were both happy. That wouldn't change when he went to college, would it?

"I had a good time…at the party." I confessed, turning onto my ridiculously long driveway off the freeway.

"You didn't have fun at the graduation?"

"Did you?"

"Axel." I laughed again.

"Graduations, for me, are rather boring. However, I must admit, I rather enjoyed watching you get your diploma. I don't think I've seen you smile that much since I told you that you weren't my 'boy toy'." I scowled a little at the term, but his airy laughter quickly put a smile back on my face.

"Good. And to answer your questions, I did have a good time. At both the graduation and the party."

"Told you so."

"Shut up."

--

Anyone else would probably ask themselves, where do we go from here? Well, I'm not anyone else. I never have been, and I probably never will be.

I know that Roxas loves me, and I know that Roxas knows that I love him. I obviously supported his decision to attend Rochester University, his decision to double-major with the hopes of continuing on to medical school, and most definitely his decision to continue living with me.

After that, we did what almost any other couple would do. We vacationed very frequently at Roxas's request, because he said that he loved traveling to exotic places with me (his reasoning was that every time we came home, he somehow felt closer to me. I never complained.). I quit my job at the art school, both of us knowing that the loss of income would hardly hurt the bank account that we now shared. We lived, loved, and laughed together. And we always will.


End file.
